Broken
by angel1983
Summary: Tag to S3E8. Spoilers for S3
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. I actually hesitated before posting this for 2 reasons. 1 it's my reflection of S3 and the evolution of the brotherhood and many of you may not agree with it, I'm not sure if I even like this story and 2 because I have only seen the 49 minute versions on Smartflix and I know there are missing scenes which might make this an AU. Actually this is an AU as I'm changing the timeline. Treville gets to lecture Aramis the same day he comes back and Aramis is not involved in getting the queen away from the mob. Sorry guys I need Treville's lecture for the story…**

 **I wrote this mainly because I read a post somewhere which stated that though there is a lot of Aramis hurt in S3, there is very little of the brotherhood around him offering comfort. I'm not talking about anything sappy, but when I recall the scene from E6 in S2 where Porthos and Athos express their concern jokingly or Athos and Porthos' hugs from E10 I found myself missing even the simplest of gestures. I mean did anyone else see the way in which Aramis sits so tiredly on his horse after their return to the garrison. And after that Athos walks away and Porthos goes to the table and pours himself a drink.**

 **Be warned there is not a lot of comfort in this and the ending is a rather - well not abrupt - but an open and angsty one, but then again I did say this was my interpretation of the Inseparables' unity or lack of it.**

 **As always I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you who have taken the time to read and/or review my fics. Thank you so much guys.**

 **Disclaimer: The Musketeers do not belong to me and never will. I write this for fun, not profit.**

After the long hard day he'd had, Athos, not surprisingly enough or unusually enough, found himself craving a bottle of wine in an effort to drown out the cares of the day.

Rage still coursed through him, red hot as he replayed the events of the day. He remembered the public square, the platform, the post and above all else, the ravaged and flayed back of Sylvie Boudain. Sylvie whose only crime was wanting a better life for her fellow man. And the same fellow man had been the one hurling abuses at her.

"Animals", Athos had found himself shouting earlier not knowing whether it was the mob or the Red Guards he had been screaming at.

"Where does it all end when they come for the ones you love?" Constance's words echoed through his mind.

'When did all of this stop?' he wondered. When would he ever have any peace in his life?

'You know there can be no peace for either of us till we're both dead'. Unbidden the words of his wife flashed through his mind.

"Athos", Constance's soft voice cut through his morose thoughts.

"Constance", he acknowledged his voice sounding tired even to his own years, prompting a worried frown from the woman in front of him.

"Are you…" she began then stopped abruptly, realising how stupid the question actually sounded. None of them were all right she thought her own tiredness echoed in her sigh.

A comforting hand landed on her shoulder causing her to look up into the concerned eyes of the Musketeer captain. Her captain, she thought with pride.

"I'm all right", she told him with an attempt at her usual smile, a failed attempt she realised a moment later as the concern in Athos' eyes only deepened.

Athos in an act which was atypical simply pulled Constance into a comforting hug. Surprise was Constance's first instinct followed by gratitude even as she acknowledged how much she needed this and simply buried her face in his chest.

After a moment she stepped back thanking him softly.

Athos only smiled. "You're family", was all he said.

"Go", Constance replied seemingly a non-sequitur and at Athos' raised eyebrow she elaborated with a chuckle.

"Go. I'll stay with her for a bit", she repeated drawing another soft smile from him.

"Constance I…" he began only to be interrupted by her

"Like you said, we're family"

"D'Artagnan…" he found himself objecting.

"D'Artagnan is asleep. He won't miss me, I promise". Athos found himself giving up with a huff and stepped out onto the balcony.

It was only as he sat at the table in the courtyard, that he realised how much he had needed a quiet moment to put the day's events into perspective. Even as he looked around the garrison he felt amazed at how easily Constance had seen through this need, and taken it upon herself to make sure he could step back for a bit. Something only his brothers or Treville would have been able to do in the past as everyone else would only see the mask Athos presented to the world. Athos knew that the entire garrison but especially he and his brothers were lucky to have this young woman in their lives.

As his thoughts wandered back to his brothers, Athos found the frown and the heavy weight in his heart from earlier returning. With a pang of sorrow he recalled the past times they had all spent in the same courtyard, together. It had been the Inseparables against the world and even when their lives had never been simple, even when they had to face the intrigues of the court, the machinations of the Cardinal or the quarrels caused by his drinking, Aramis' womanising, Porthos' cheating and D'Artagnan's hot headedness they had done so in a united manner. 'And now look at us', he thought knowing that the brotherhood of the past, the brotherhood that had been his life had disintegrated, maybe beyond hope.

Athos knew that it would be so easy to blame the dissolution of their friendship on the actions of one man, all too simple to lay the charge of their division at Aramis' door. Aramis, who by his reckless act of loving someone beyond his reach had essentially destroyed their way of life, had torn himself from them, putting an end to the Inseparables. But then again Athos knew it would be all too simple to blame himself, Treville or even the queen.

Athos who through his own weakness had allowed his wife to live, placing the queen's life in danger in the first place, the queen for sleeping with Aramis and Treville for not accepting the King's offer of a place on the council the first time following the death of the Cardinal, thereby providing Rochefort with the opportunity to wriggle his way to the monarch's side and expose Aramis and the queen's treasonous liaison.

And then there was the fact that he was the captain now rather then simply being one of the men. His new – and now not so new – status of leadership seemed to have raised a wall between himself and the rest of them. Porthos and D'Artagnan had seemingly become closer than ever while he himself was drifting away from them.

The sound of footsteps from behind mercifully stopped Athos from continuing this depressing train of thought. Turning, he found Porthos walking towards him, looking just as tired as he felt.

"Aramis" was all he said and at Athos' questioning look continued. "He's still not back yet", he grumbled softly. "He was summoned to the palace and left before taking care of his injuries".

Athos realised with a jolt that he had completely forgotten about the punishment Aramis had suffered at the hands of Grimaud and his henchmen. The way the marksman had been riding earlier definitely suggested bruised ribs, his hands had been chained and he had received a blow to the head. Plus Grimaud firing a pistol so close to his ears wouldn't have done him any favours Athos thought worriedly knowing that the marksman would have been lucky to get away with a mild concussion.

"We should check the palace…" he began interrupted by Porthos shaking his head. "I already did", he confirmed intensifying Athos' worry. "He left minister Treville's office hours ago"

Hours ago! The words echoed through his mind and Athos' worry reached new proportions. Grimaud was still out there after all, still plotting.

"Then where in God's name is he?" he bit out.

"I don't know", Porthos responded ignoring his moodiness with ease.

Just for a second Athos considered the fact that Porthos might not have really gone looking for the marksman, but a moment later he disregarded this traitorous thought. No matter how angry Porthos was he would never have left anyone he cared about alone and injured. Not if he could help it. As he looked up guiltily he felt Porthos' calm eyes studying him. If the other man knew anything of his thoughts though he mercifully ignored them and asked about how Sylvie was faring instead.

"I was politely asked to leave for a while", Athos told him a smile curling the edge of his lips.

Porthos' own answering smile was bright, but whatever he was going to say or ask was swept aside by the sudden sound of horses' hooves as their missing fourth rode into the garrison. The light from the entryway spilled onto the marksman's face and Athos found himself wincing in sympathy at their friend's ragged appearance. There was no other polite way to put this. Aramis looked terrible.

Porthos was the first to reach the marksman as Athos suddenly found himself rooted to the table. For on brief moment he found that he was unsure of the welcome he would receive from their brother. Would Aramis even want him at his side considering the fact that he had simply walked away earlier without even bothering to check on his welfare.

"Aramis", he heard Porthos' voice call out softly in an effort to not startle the suddenly still man and Athos found himself moving forward. Reaching the still seated man, he grabbed hold of the animal's reins before offering his assistance. "Will you need help getting off the horse"

The sound of his voice prompted a shift in Aramis' focus from his own hands to Athos' face and just like he had back at the abandoned fort he seemed to be trying to look into Athos' soul.

A moment later he simply shook his head and winced at the sudden spike in pain. Athos heard Porthos grumble something under his breath before the bigger man simply manhandled Aramis to the ground.

"I could have done that myself Porthos", Aramis' voice definitely held a note of complaint, prompting a quiet chuckle from the leader of the Inseparables

"If we'd have waited for you to do that we'd have been here the entire night", Porthos retorted unfazed by Aramis' annoyance. He then proceeded to drag Aramis to his rooms.

Athos simply stepped back and let Porthos do as he saw fit. At the "Are you coming", that Porthos threw over his shoulder, he found himself shaking his head. "You seem to have things well in hand", was all he said even as Aramis turned towards him wide-eyed. "Save me", he called out plaintively as Porthos continued to seemingly pull him forward. For the first time in a long time Athos enjoyed his brother's foolish antics. How much had he missed this he thought, his heart feeling lighter all of a sudden despite the trials of the day.

"Athos", Aramis' voice definitely held a whine to it and Athos chuckled. "Fine", he called out following his brothers home.

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Athos was not naïve enough or foolish enough to believe that one light-hearted moment in the courtyard would be enough to heal all of their hurts or magically restore their brotherhood to as it were before. What he hadn't expected was for that one moment of warmth to evaporate as quickly as this.

Upon stepping inside his rooms Aramis had simply pulled himself free of Porthos' grasp confirming Athos' earlier thoughts that the bigger man hadn't been as rough with his brother as had appeared. Aramis had then proceeded to simply walk towards his bed seemingly exhausted, but instead of dropping into it had just stood at the foot of it. His thoughts once more seemed to be a million miles away. Porthos had grumbled some more and had tried to get the former monk to sit down. Aramis however had pulled himself away.

"What are you two still doing awake?" he had asked instead tone flat.

Athos almost gritted his teeth at the flash of pain on Porthos' face at that deceptively innocent question and found himself wishing for a bottle of wine.

Ignoring the siren call of oblivion, he took charge. "Porthos, why don't you find us some bandages and some hot water", he instructed. "Oh, and a bottle of wine as well. Brujon should have some left from earlier".

Porthos simply nodded and walked back out the door.

Athos found himself tracking the big man till he disappeared, before turning back towards the marksman who seemed to be doing his own staring at the door.

"Why don't you sit down before you fall over Aramis", he stated softly assisting his brother to a seated position on the bed. Aramis' hair fell like a curtain over his face and Athos brushed it back softly trying to catch the marksman's eyes. This unusual quiet from the normally garrulous man worried him.

"I'm fine", was all Aramis stated covering his face with his hands. His shaking hands thought Athos with a frown.

Waiting for Porthos to come back with the supplies, Athos lowered himself onto the bed beside the marksman, casting around for a safe topic to break this uncomfortable silence. It was Aramis though who spoke first.

"If you're looking for the right words to deliver a lecture, I should tell you I've had enough"

"Treville", Athos almost sounded amused.

Aramis continued peeved. "I swear Athos, he still has the power to make me feel like a foolish young recruit"

"That's because you are foolish", Athos continued the amusement in his voice clear now and Aramis found himself smiling as well.

"You were foolish", he added softly and just like Aramis knew that the light-hearted moment was over; and felt its loss keenly

"I know I shouldn't have…" Aramis began, only to trail off. "Actually, you know what, I don't feel guilty for agreeing to contact the Spanish on behalf of the queen", he stated simply.

Athos' face seemed to tighten at that.

"Aramis…" he was interrupted by a raised hand from the marksman.

"I can't regret that Athos. I'm a Musketeer and I chose to serve my country at the behest of my queen", he stated firmly.

Athos only sighed in response and turned away before his head snapped back at the softly spoken, "I do regret not telling you though".

"Why?" Porthos' simple question startled them both.

"I told you Porthos. I just wanted peace…" began Aramis trying to deflect, but Porthos was having none of it.

"You know exactly what I'm asking Aramis. Why didn't you tell us about your contact with the Spanish?" Porthos' question was specific leaving Aramis no choice.

Aramis seemed to look too tired for any arguments or deflections. "I was ordered not to", he stated monotonously.

"You hate following orders", Athos stated ignoring the small voice at the back of the head berating him for pushing the already injured man. They needed answers if they were to move past this. Well Porthos did, he told himself knowing that he was lying to himself. Aramis' omission had hurt him as well.

Aramis though remained silent not meeting either of their eyes. At least not until he found that Porthos had simply dropped the supplies he had been carrying onto the table and walked out the door.

"Porthos", Aramis called out sounding heart-broken but the big man did not stop.

Athos found his own heart breaking as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: I know I keep saying I will complete my WIP's but more often than not I find myself having very limited time to dedicate to writing. I apologise to everyone who has been following my stories but real life has gotten in the way a lot. That being said I most definitely will not abandon this universe. I'm too much in love with the Inseparables to do so.**

 **This story was just supposed to be a one shot but I find myself continuing with it. It is still neither complete nor incomplete in itself and I'm not sure I will write another chapter… As always this one is Aramis centric**

 **A huge thank you to all who has read, reviewed or favorited my stories. Thank you all for your encouragement.**

 **As always I do not own anything connected to the Musketeers. If I did Aramis would be happier … or would he? :P**

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Aramis moved very carefully trying to pull himself back together, trying so hard to not breakdown in front of Athos, trying to be something resembling normal.

He never should have left, he thought to himself then found a hysterical laugh escaping him when he realised he couldn't decide whether he shouldn't have left the Musketeers or whether he shouldn't have left the monastery.

A hand steadying and grounding was on his shoulder. Athos, he thought, Athos was still here. Athos hadn't left. For a moment neither of them said anything. Aramis had frozen when he had felt Athos beside him. He did not move, did not say a word, did not even breathe. He did not want Athos to leave and he feared that anything he did would push the other man away. Just like you managed to do with Porthos, his mind supplied helpfully.

"C'mon then. Let's get you fixed up", Athos' voice was clipped and if possible Aramis froze even further.

"I… I can do it myself", he said stumbling over the words not even daring to glance up at Athos. "It's not… It's just my hands and my…" he abruptly shut up when Athos simply took a hold of his wrists and started cleaning the abrasions.

"I don't think they need to be stitched", was all he said, though his voice was gentler than it had been.

"I… That was… He… I was wrong", was what Aramis responded with. It came out sounding like a question though.

Athos had no idea what to say to that one. Aramis did not feel he was in the wrong and for a moment Athos wondered if Aramis was right, if in fact he and Porthos were the ones not taking this well. After all, Aramis was right about the fact that there was still a war, he was still a Musketeer and he was doing what he could to serve his country. How was this any different from the many times they had all followed their orders. The Musketeers served the crown. Aramis had every right to accept an assignment given to him and fulfil it to the best of his ability. And the Queen had had the best interest of the country at heart. She had tried to contact her brother to negotiate peace and she had sent the one man she could trust implicitly because of the relationship they shared. Athos found he couldn't blame her for that. Especially when he knew that he himself would have maybe gone to Treville if he had known what was on the Queen's mind.

'But that is not what you are both upset about is it', the voice inside his head questioned. It wasn't Athos thought. It wasn't the mission itself that bothered him. It was the fact that Aramis hadn't trusted them, hadn't thought that he could come to them with this. That was what had hurt Athos and Porthos. 'Not that this was the first time the marksman had done something stupid like this though' his mind countered. 'No that may be what Porthos is upset about but not you'

No, what had been bothering him was the simple fact that Aramis had asked Porthos to shoot him just to get to Grimaud. As he treated the abrasions on his friend's wrist Athos wondered if Aramis would have encouraged Porthos to shoot him if it weren't for his own obsession with Grimaud.

The hiss from Aramis drew Athos back to his surroundings making him realise that he had let his thoughts control his actions and had ended up gripping Aramis' wrist too hard. Suddenly Aramis was the one trying to catch his eye and Athos found that he couldn't do it.

"Athos please", Aramis called out softly, worriedly, but Athos still couldn't respond to that. Guilt, that old familiar feeling was welling up in him and Athos found himself powerless to stop it. Aramis had been ready to die today, not just for Queen and country but for him, not for the Captain of the Musketeers but for him, Athos the man, the friend. Had Athos let his obsession for Grimaud control him so much, he wondered that Aramis one of his oldest and dearest of companions was willing to die for his vendetta. Had he given the impression that Grimaud's death would mean more to him than the life of one of his closest friends? Suddenly he had to know, he had to know why Aramis had been so willing to sacrifice his life, why Aramis had ever thought that Athos would ever want Grimaud's death at the cost of the marksman's own life.

This time his "why" came out sounding so much more strangled.

Aramis looked confused and slightly worried. "I… I already told you… The Queen…"

"That's not what I asked old friend", his voice had gone soft

Aramis simply sighed as he turned away from Athos to stare out the window.

"I wanted peace", he repeated.

"And you thought your death would bring me that?"

Aramis flinched at the accusation.

Athos took a deep breath. "Can you take off your doublet? I want to check your ribs"

"My ribs are fine Athos. Just bruised. I can take care of them later".

Athos simply stood at that. The marksman's tone had told him that he would not be willing to accommodate Athos' concern any further that night. Athos wasn't the only one who pushed people away when he was hurt. In many ways they were more similar than most would believe. For a start of the four of them they hurt the worst. Maybe that's why they made the worst decisions. Maybe that's why they hurt the others, Athos thought.

"I wasn't… I am not suicidal Athos", Aramis called out softly.

"No you are not", Athos agreed as he walked out the door

"Aramis", the soft feminine voice from his doorway broke into Aramis' thoughts. Lifting his head up to meet Constance's eyes and seeing the concern there Aramis was very tempted to snap and ask why everyone around him worried about him tonight, the one night he actually wanted to be left alone, when they hadn't seemed to bother till now.

The next minute though he shamefully bowed his head and acknowledged that Constance at least had seemed to care enough to listen to his problems unlike everyone else and waved her in remaining silent as she crossed the room to drop beside him onto the bed.

"C'mon then", she tried injecting a purposeful note of cheerfulness in her voice. "Let's see how bad your ribs are".

Aramis was too tired this night to even think about pretending to be Ok in front of her. "As I told Athos", he bit the name out, "I'm fine". His tone softened at the look of hurt on her face. "I promise Constance I'm fine. My ribs are simply bruised".

"You should head to bed", he added when she still did not move.

Constance snorted at this. "Why does everyone seem so intent on coddling me tonight?"

Aramis simply raised an eyebrow at what seemed to him a hypocritical question considering she seemed to be here to 'coddle' him herself.

Constance didn't even bat an eyelid. "I wasn't the one who stupidly decided to get themselves taken hostage, was I", she told him loftily.

Aramis actually chuckled at that, the first time he had smiled since Grimaud had held him hostage. The next moment the smile dropped from his face as his mind once again went back to the morose mood it had been in ever since he had gotten back to Paris.

"Aramis, is… what's wrong?" Constance asked him hesitantly.

It was as if a dam had burst as words poured out of him. "You mean what's wrong apart from the fact that everything I have done since my return seems to be pushing all my friends further and further away from me? Apart from the fact that Porthos and I haven't had a proper conversation since my return? Apart from the fact that Porthos and Athos don't seem to trust me anymore? Or let's consider that Athos almost shot me when I questioned his orders. Oh and of course there's the King who seems to know everything, Treville who has decided that I'm not fit to be a soldier because I followed the Queen's orders and of course Grimaud who seems intent on killing us all and who Porthos didn't kill today because he was trying to save my miserable life. Tell me what else can go wrong Constance", he finished softly, a bit shamefaced at his rant.

Constance to her credit simply took everything in without a comment or without an interruption. Even after he had finished she did not say anything, silently trying to offer her support.

Aramis nodded his head gratefully. The next moment though he felt her stiffen slightly as she filtered what he had said. "Hang on a minute. What do you mean Athos tried to shoot you?"

For the nth time that night Aramis felt his muscles freeze. "I…", he began caught unprepared not even realising what he had been ranting.

"He didn't shoot me. He just… He… simply pulled a gun on me. He actually pulled a gun on me", he acknowledged to himself softly ignoring Constance's sputtering. It hadn't sunk in back then with everything going on with Pauline and St. Pierre but it was true thought Aramis with a sinking feeling. 'Dear God, what had he done", he thought feeling slightly sick. How badly had he screwed up for Athos to actually threaten him with a gun?

Constance for once remained silent not knowing what to do or how to comfort the distraught man beside her. She had a feeling Aramis had forgotten she was there. The day's events seemed to have finally caught up with him and he seemed to be in shock.

"Aramis I…" Constance began but Aramis interrupted her. "I'd like to be on my own for a while if you do not mind Madame" he stated formally and Constance found she could not refuse him.

"Of course", she stood up smoothing her skirts and then giving in she dropped a kiss on his forehead. Her action had surprised him she thought with a chuckle. "Get some sleep Aramis", she told him softly before walking out the door.


End file.
